Wind Runner
by KittyCoffin
Summary: Steph's on again/off again relationship with Joe has taken an abusive turn. Fed up, she decides to 'find' herself - by going completely off the map! In a series of events you'll have to read to find out ; Steph runs not only from Joe, but from her closest friends, too! Can they find her before they lose her - or worse, Joe does?
1. Chapter 1 The Big Bang Theory

**(A/N: I have made the decision not to continue 'Second Trial of Payne' - at least, not yet. Obviously. This is something I've been working on for . . . two . . . months now, and I want to get it done. Each chapter has its own 'theme song.' The beginning of this one is L's theme song AB&C - you can look it up on YouTube. L is a genius character from Death Note. The second part - after Steph's flashback - is Good Girl by Carrie Underwood.)**

Chapter 1 - The Big Bang Theory

I cringed as the door creaked when I opened it, and mentally cursed as the wooden floor groaned. Hopefully, Morelli was asleep upstairs and didn't hear me entering his house at - I stole a glance at the quietly ticking clock above his kitchen table - six in the morning, when I'd said I should be back by eleven, last night.

Luck was not on my side.

Only a second after I had toed off my heels, Morelli came tramping down the stairs. He looked at me in Ranger's slightly wrinkled shirt I'd borrowed but probably would never give back. The shirt fell to my knees, hiding my denim mini-skirt from yesterday, and my leggings had disappeared. His eyes lingered on the length of the shirt, taking in how big it was on me, and I knew the exact moment he realized just _whose_ shirt it was, because his face turned an interesting shade of purple.

"Cupcake." That was good, right? I mean, he didn't yell. But I had no hope this could be a civilize conversation for very long.

"Sorry I'm late - er, early, I guess. It took them _nine hours_ just to figure out this skip probably left on a plane, but then they still had no idea where he was, I mean, if you're leaving by plane you can just hop state lines, right? But then I was thinking for a couple hours and finally I remembered in his file it talked about how he's -"

"Stop, Cupcake. Just stop. I don't need to hear excuses for why you're coming home to me at _six thirty seven in the fucking morning_, after you spend the night at a fucking mercenary's." I stopped to stare at him in shock. I knew he hated when I stayed out late, especially when I was out with Ranger, but I also _thought_ he knew I would never sleep around on him. His voice was ice cold when he asked me, "Was he worth it?"

I stuttered. This, this just couldn't end well. "If you mean, 'Was it worth it to stay out late to locate a scum bag whose favorite hobby is selling little girls into sex slavery,' then yes. It was very worth it, and it will be worth it when I get to go with them to Cabo San Lucas and watch them rip his nuts off while they apprehend him."

As I watched his face darken even more, his eyes sparking with anger, I couldn't help but remember the cause of this, our latest fight.

*W*R*

_Bang! Pop! Sizzz! _Unfortunately, I was so familiar with the noises of an automobile exploding, that even though my back was turned, I didn't have to see it to know the latest car I'd had to borrow from Ranger was now in car-heaven. Lula and Connie's eyes flew to the window of the newly rebuilt bond's office before Connie shrugged and Lula returned to filing her nails. I hesitantly glanced over my shoulder. Yup. The Explorer was in flames. Sigh; this was the third car in the past two weeks. It was official. Someone wanted me dead.

If you had told me the day I was fired from E.E. Martin, a company where I worked as a lingerie buyer, that I would be so blasé about the thought that someone was trying to kill me, I would run from you. Screaming. Now, the idea was simply a part of my life. Granted, not a _fun _part, but you learn to live with what you've got.

The door to my part time boss and cousin, Vinnie's office opened, and my other part time boss and mentor, Ranger, stepped out. Ranger is badass personified. He's probably my best friend, he taught me everything I know about bounty hunting (which is, admittedly, very little) and for one extraordinary night, he was my lover. Then he told me to go back to my shit-stain boyfriend and Trenton cop, Joseph Morelli.

Morelli's not a bad guy; he's just not _the_ guy. _The_ guy was current company, but he was also wearing at least two guns and a knife, and he told me constantly that that made him the opposite of relationship material. Truth is, for Ranger, I would give up just about anything to be in a relationship, so long as it was with him.

At the moment, he was smirking at the smoldering remains of his former car. It wasn't just one of his usual half-smiles, either. This was one of his rare, full blown 2500 watt grins. The kind that said you were amusing him. It was also the kind that made women walk into walls. "Babe," he said to me, and walked out. Lula and Connie followed him with their greedy eyes. Connie fanned herself with an envelope.

"Babe" can mean a lot of things. I took this particular case to mean, _I want to talk to you privately._ A lot of people would love to do a lot of things with Ranger privately. Talking wasn't on many lists. I flashed a nervous smile at the girls and gingerly made my way out the door and over to Ranger, where he was leaning against door of his Porsche, watching the Explorer burn.

"It wasn't my fault," I stated. He grinned again, this time just a half-smile and I was only slightly surprised to realize that disappointed me.

"It never is," He replied cryptically, then inclined his head. "I'll give you a ride to Rangeman," He offered, "Got a skip I could use your insight on."

I'm not sure how I did it, and I doubt I could do it ever, _ever _again, but I raised my left brow at him questioningly. His smile widened incrementally. "We can't find anything on him that might lead us to him, and you've got a slightly different way of thinking than most people. You might come up with something we can't." For Ranger, this was a speech akin to William Henry's Inaugural. Lengthwise, I mean. Blowing out a sigh, I nodded.

I was just about to get into the car when I heard the shout. _"_Cupcake, _where the_ fuck _do you think you're going?"_

I looked over roof of the car, meeting Joe's gaze, and said simply, "I'm just helping out with a skip." If that's wrong, _you_ can deal with it, Ranger, I thought. Joe's eyes narrowed, but before he could say anything else, I had dropped into the passenger seat and told Ranger to go. He cast me an odd glance, but did as I asked.

We got to Rangeman and I was welcomed by Lester grabbing my hand and practically dragging me to the control room. Cal smirked at him and handed me a file. "Please, Beautiful. You _gotta_ help us out here!" I guess I could do it again; my left brown rose at him for just a second, before I said, "I gotta admit, you look like a chihuahua when you beg." As everyone burst out laughing, I flipped the file open. After that, I don't know if anyone tried to say anything to me, but if they had, I didn't acknowledge them. Finally, I stopped. Dropping my head back to stare at the ceiling, I'm sure my sudden change in focus startled Tank, Lester, Bobby, Cal, Hal, and even Ranger who had all been watching me run searches for the past hour.

"How did he leave town?" I questioned. They were all silent for a minute, before Tank finally answered me.

"By plane," he replied. I nodded slowly, and grabbed the folder off the table to my left. "Bomber?" He questioned, and looked shocked when I shushed him.

"He's a sex addict, right?"

". . . Yeah . . ." This time it was a blushing Hal who responded.

"He had a subscription to _Playboy_. I don't care how stupid it might seem to you and me; I've seen the effect addiction has on people. They don't just drop it cold turkey. And mental addictions like this are almost . . . more difficult to drop than physical ones, like alcoholism. That means . . ." I reached out and grabbed the phone. I watched the big, confused men leaning against the wall or seated in chairs in the corner of the room in my peripheral vision, even as I dialed the number and waited.

"Yes, my name's Cindy Hageman," I greeted, using the name of our skip's wife. "I told my husband, Conner Hageman, to cancel his subscription five _months_ ago, but this week I found a . . . _magazine_ on the living room floor. We have an eleven year old son! Do you know how impressionable preteen boys are?" At this, I noticed Ranger and Tank smiling. "I just wanted to know where he's getting these from, because they're _certainly_ not coming to _our_ mail box; the slimy rat doesn't know how to let the dog out, let alone run out to get the mail," I sighed, and watched the guys grin at each other as I wrote down an address in a country I'd never heard of. "Thanks. We're definitely going to have words. Oh! One last thing . . . you wouldn't happen to have a phone number, would you?" After scrawling down another set of numbers, I hung up, but before any of them could speak, I began to scribble furiously.

They watched me again, and frowned when I handed the paper to Bobby, who began to grin after reading what I'd written. Taking the waiting phone from my hand, he dialed the number Playboy had given me, and gave his speech.

"Hello, Mr. Hageman, my name is Damien Lawson, and I'm calling on behalf of the postal service. We're running an annual survey, and need to verify your address. . . ." 'Damien' continued on to prattle off an address slightly different than what the _Playboy_ worker had given, and scribbled down the address Hageman gave him. "Thank you, sir. I'll have that corrected right away. Yes. Goodbye." Hanging up, he turned to me and pulled me into his arms.

"You're a genius, Bomber! The addresses match, so now we know where Hageman lives. Thank you." Lester was grinning.

"I could 'a done that too . . . maybe," he said. "Definitely with a couple more days to think about it."

I merely smiled at him and shook my head. Tank, Cal and Hal simply said, "Thanks, Bomber." And after that, I turned to Ranger. He was smiling in bemusement, but he seemed happy.

"Proud of you, babe," he volunteered. Then frowned at the paper that had been given to him. "But now I want to know how someone so high profile could sneak onto a plane and disappear to Cabo San Lucas." Shaking his head, he continued, "It's late, and you worked harder than most of my men," -this was met with a round of playful indignant cries from the Merry Men- "so why don't you stay at Rangeman tonight. I'm sure you're tired, and you didn't take a break to eat anything - very un-Stephanie-like." He grinned to himself at that. "Ella's probably asleep by now," he added, "but I know how to heat leftovers."

My eyes widened and I turned to Tank to playfully gasp, "Ranger eats _leftovers_?" Tank grinned.

"Be scared; be very scared - it probably has twigs listed under the main ingredients."

Ranger was shaking his head at us, but smiling. "Babe." I followed him up to seven.

When we got up to Ranger's apartment, he looked over his shoulder and said, "Change into something to sleep in. It's not safe to be out driving when you're as tired as you are." So he headed off to his kitchen, and I to his bedroom.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled open the doors of his closet, and quickly grabbed a pair of sleep shorts and a camisole. I think Ella was trying to make a statement; the shorts were white, thin, and barely covered my butt. The cami was equally white and sheer, with spaghetti straps that were barely there, and straight across my chest was the only color in the entire set: in shiny golden colored calligraphy, the word "angel" was scrawled right across my breasts. _This might as well constitute lingerie_, I thought. I certainly saw less sexy items when I worked at E. E. Martin.

Shaking my head at my thoughts, I padded out to the living room. And froze. Ranger must have some sort of emergency stash of clothes, because he was walking around, shirtless, in only a pair of silk boxers. He glanced up and smiled at me, and I wonder how I was going to find an inconspicuous way to check for drool.

Dinner was quiet - then again, most things involving Ranger were - and after he put the dishes in the sink, he led me to his bedroom. I could barely keep my eyes open, let alone protest him tucking me in like a small child. He brushed a few strands of hair away from my cheek, and I heard the door to his bathroom shut quietly. As I was on the verge of falling asleep, I heard the water from his shower stop running, and he crept out the door. But he didn't come to bed. When the door to the living room cracked open, I sat up slowly. "Don't. Don't leave." There was a long moment of quiet stillness.

Then the covers beside me were pulled down, and I felt the bed dip as he slid in.

Just before I fell asleep with my head on his chest, I heard him whisper, "Duerme bien, la esposa de mi alma."

*W*R*

Joe exploded. "Dammit, Stephanie! You can't just go running around with undesirables like that! Do you know what people would have said if something had happened to you while you were with him? I can't protect you from yourself!"

I felt it then; a flash of pure fury flooding through my veins. He continued, oblivious to the fire he had started. "It's high time you gave up your lousy job - you're no good at it anyway - and settle down! I'm not going to wait forever, Stephanie. You should be at home taking care of our children at this age - not running around playing superhero with a bunch of thugs!"

I snapped.

"Fuck you, Joe! Don't expect me to 'settle down' anytime soon, that's just not who I am! And I might not have conventional methods, but I have one of the highest capture rates out of _any_ bounty hunter in the country! Nearly a hundred percent. Not only that, either, Joe, but I've helped you out more times than can be put on _one_ _hand_ when _you're_ involved in a dangerous case. And those men that you call _thugs_? They're a lot better than you are! You say they're criminals, but had _you_ been good enough for the SEALs, -which, by _the_ _way_, is where Bobby's from - then you would have seen and become _exactly_ what they have - hell, _you_ might have actually worked at Rangeman. So don't -" _SMACK!_

I gasped as a sharp stinging pain suddenly made itself noticed on my cheek. I also realized that the force of Joe's blow had knocked me off my feet, and I was on the ground, lying on my side, my fingertips gently placed to the area on my cheek where Joe had slapped me. "Oh, that's nice. You know that's abuse, Joey boy? You're not a real man if you th-" This time, it was a kick to my stomach. I curled over in a fetal position, and felt another kick land at the top of my head. The world went white for just a moment, but when I came to, I almost wished I hadn't. He had a grip on my arm, hard and impatient. He was dragging me up the stairs.

"You think I'm not good as them? Think I'm gonna let you run back to them? Be their whore? Nutuh. This ends _now_!" He kicked his bedroom door open, and threw me onto his bed. I shrieked until I felt his hands wrap around my throat. "You're going to be quiet now." One of his hands drifted lower, shoving my skirt up around my waist. "You're going to become a good 'Burg girl and have my babies." He ripped my panties off easily, and I nearly choked on a sob that I'd tried as hard as possible to keep quiet. "But first, since this is our wedding night until I tell your mother tomorrow that you finally agreed and we actually set up our wedding, and the bride is supposed to be a virgin, and I know that you've been fucked before, I'll have to take your little ass." I couldn't back the sob, especially when it changed from one of terror, to one of pain as I felt his head begin to prod my forbidden area. "Considering how religiously you guarded this area, I'm assuming that's why you waited?"

I never had the chance to plead for him to stop, to tell him that I'd rather die than be abused this way. All I knew was the pain as you forced himself on me repeatedly, and the mind-numbing fear as I realized he'd paid no thought to using a condom - then again, he wanted to make a baby, so why would he?

At last he fell asleep beside me, but I continued to lie there, shuddering from my silent tears, from the pain that I could still feel. At noon, his alarm went off, and I cringed away from him. His only response was a sickening chuckled, before he began to go about his business, getting ready to go to work; he had an evening shift today, apparently. When he was dressed, he came back to the bedroom, and leaned against the doorjamb.

"Go to work today - this is normally when you get up, right? You'll have to start getting up earlier so you can take care of our babies. Do your job, but in a few weeks, I get a pregnancy test, and if you're pregnant, you'll have to tell Vinnie you quit." He turned to leave, but paused, and glanced over his shoulder. "We'll work on the baby some more tonight. And if you tell anyone about this morning, I'll kill them. I know enough about law and investigation to get away with it." With that terrifying last statement, he left.

**(Translation: Sleep well, wife of my soul.)**


	2. Chapter 2 Never Look Back

**(This chapter's a little (a lot) shorter. Its 'theme songs' are Second Chance by Shinedown (I love this song, and it's very inspiring.) and once Steph heads off down the highway (you'll know when) the song is Never Look Back by The Nearly Deads. Hope you like!)**

Chapter 2 - Never Look Back

I lay in bed crying for a few more minutes before I got up. I knew I had to leave. I could barely walk, but I forced myself to move. I combed my hair out and took off my clothes before standing in front of the mirror. I was shocked . . . but also not. A purple bruise was barely visible on my left cheek and jaw, and my stomach was mottle black and blue. His hands were engraved in my skin by red marks on my hips, waist, breasts and arms. But the most shocking sight was the dried blood that decorated the insides of my thighs. I closed my eyes.

After a bath and shoving myself into jeans and a shirt, I called Lula and asked her to pick me up. Ten minutes later, I was stumbling to her car.

"Girl, you and Supercop have some fun last night?" She asked, noticed my disrupted gate. Then her gaze fell on the bruise, and she sucked in a breath. "Guess not," she muttered to herself.

I smiled at her weekly. "We've got another thing in common, now." Taking a deep breath, I added, "Bugs?" She frowned at me, probably thought I was crazy. But all I did was sweep my hands under her dash until - aha!

Holding up the small invasion of privacy, I showed it to her quickly before flicking it out the window. After examining the car as best I could while seated, I found only one more. Then I gave up, and turned to her.

"I'm leaving out today." I said quickly. She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, even as she pulled into a spot near the door in the parking lot.

"What you mean, white girl?"

"I mean, I'm going to disappear. Leave town. Go in the wind. I want to be gone by four or so, so Joe can't find me. You understand, right? And I only want you and Connie to know. Because if this gets around the burg," I swallowed. "Joe said he'd kill anyone I told about what happened this morning." Lula nodded slowly.

"I can get that, girl." She said softly. "Why don't you tell us what you're plannin' on doing inside?"

And so I did.

*W*R*

Connie got me hooked up with a car. It was a silver Volvo, and sort of beat down, but it would get me where I needed to go. As I was waiting for Connie to close down the office, I took the time as a chance to review everything that had changed.

*W*R*

I was roused from my sleep by the insistent chirp of Ranger's alarm. My eyes fluttered open, to notice the time on the alarm. Five o'clock. I felt him shift, and then lean over me. "You can get up now, and maybe have a chance to get home before he realizes you stayed the night, or you can go back to sleep, and let him think what he may." I slowly rolled over.

His hair was only slightly matted from the six hours of sleep, and his eyes were fully alert. I felt like cursing him for it, but the fact of the matter was: it would just suck if this fine specimen of male splendor were to be thrown away.

Shaking my head, I sat up, and was just about to slip out of bed when the warmth of his hand sunk into my shoulders. I shivered. I never felt like this when anyone else touched me. Like the warmth from the contact swept right through me. Just a touch could sooth me. I found myself actually sighing. "Stephanie," he breathed. I glanced over my shoulder.

"My contract is over in a month, babe." That was all he said. But it was all I needed.

"And what happens . . . in a month?" I whispered back. He gave me a soft smile, and pulled me into his arms, and for just a minute, I felt calm. Like at every other minute I'm breathing, chaos just drugs my blood; but the instant he takes me in his arms, I'm pacified.

"A month," he breathed in my ear.

And then he pulled away, off to save the world while I showered and daydreamed of someday - just a few, short weeks away.

*W*R*

"Steph!"

Connie's shout brought me back to the present, and I jumped at least a few feet up into the air. "Ready to go?" she asked.

I nodded slowly.

"Remember: he'll report you missing as soon as he knows you're gone. Even if they change your case to a simple runaway, the people you're running from are cops, who _will_ keep looking for you, and have a vast number of resources. Don't forget about us, but don't look back at us, either, Stephanie." And with that parting advice, she squeezed my shoulder, and walked me to the car. We didn't say anything else, until I had sat in the car. She was just about to turn around, when I spoke.

"Goodbye." I pulled the car out of the lot without waiting for her reply, but in my rearview mirror, I could see her lips move as she returned the sentiment.

*W*R*

It was in the lot of dilapidated car shop off the side of the road. A big van that looked like Big Blue's brother. The owner of the lot watched me warily, probably confused by my interest in the van. Honestly, so was I. The Volvo was unrelated to me, and it would get me pretty far, but it felt uncomfortable to me in a way that had nothing to do with hot leather seats.

The back seats of the van had been pulled out. This would make a great place to sleep in, I realized. I wouldn't have to pay for hotel rooms, and I could be out of town as quickly as throwing off my blankets, sliding into the driver's seat, and putting the key in the ignition.

I bought the car without a moment's regret, and gave the car dealer the Volvo. And I then I was off.

I'm not sure exactly how long I drove. All I know is that the air conditioner in the van sucked, the clock was dead, and the stars are a lot prettier outside city lines.

I was almost disappointed when I saw the lights of an unknown town begin to flicker over the horizon.


	3. Chapter 3 Suffocating

**(Don't worry about the HEA - it's guaranteed, because I can't do too much angst. The HEA just might be a little different than expected! :-D This chapter's theme song is: Let the Bodies Hit the Floor, but it only applies to the first part of the chapter - Ranger's POV. Luvs ya peoples!) **

Chapter 3 - Suffocating

**Ranger's POV**

**I was suffocating just from missing her. I had known I loved her, but I didn't realize just how much it would eat me up to know she was gone - that she'd been hurt and I was unable to help her. That I'd surrendered her up to that **_**abuse**_** not an hour after I'd promised her our wait was almost over. And why the **_**hell**_** didn't she come to me afterwards?**

**I stilled. I was in the gym at Rangeman, and I had been beating the shit out of a punching bag for the better half of the day. But now. . . .**

**I took a step forward to lean my forehead against the thick leather of the punching bag.**

**I would have protected her. **

**I had more than enough resources to keep her safe. Safe houses and pretty much my very own army. . . . **_**Why didn't she come to me?**_

**Another burst of rage shot through me, and I took a step back to renew the beating.**

**I would have protected her.**

***W*R***

**I knew the instant he entered the room. I wouldn't react, though. He was worthless. Not good enough to look at the ground she walked on, yet he had the **_**nerve**_** to lay a hand on her in anger?**

**Not a day after I found out she had left town, Tank had given me a note. Lula had given it to him, but originally, Stephanie had given it to Lula. I gritted my teeth and gave another sharp blow to the punching bag. Sweat beaded on my forehead and dripped off the long strands of my hair that had fallen out of the leather band, which was probably most of it. Finally, I heard Tank's booming voice snap out like the crack of a whip, "Soldier, pull yourself together!"**

**Instinct took over, unfortunately, and I jumped to attention quickly. Tank was standing completely still, arms crossed, legs spread shoulder's width apart - which was pretty far apart, all things considered. Especially in his shadow, the worm looked tiny and pathetic. Glaring at him with my everything, I snarled, "What do you think you're doing here, Morelli?"**

*W*R*

Steph's POV

The town turned out to be Mt. Holly. I parked the car in an almost filed lot outside a pretty public-looking place, and even though it made me extremely nervous, I locked the doors and attempted to get into the back of the van without causing too much noise. I'm sure I let out a whimper or two when I moved - there's just no way to go through something like _that_ without being at least a little sore - but overall, I think it went well.

I had a few pillows and blankets already laid out, since I'd stopped earlier at a convenience store and bought a few things, nine pillows and a down-like blanket among them. In the bag sitting in the corner farthest from the driver's seat I had a pre-paid cell phone I'd activate tomorrow at an Internet café, a pre-paid credit card that would let me buy things without having to worry about my social security number showing up and tipping off Joe, and a few t-shirts, pairs of jeans, a pair of shorts, and new tennis shoes. And how did I afford all that? In the glove box of the Volvo was nearly two and a half million dollars.

I love Connie.

I laid down on my makeshift bed of pillows, and resolved to actually buy a mattress if I ever had the chance. This van wasn't just a van. It was goddamn big enough to fit a kind size mattress in here comfortably. I sighed, rolled onto my side, and hissed in pain as the position put my weight on one of the bruises on my hips. Rolling back onto my back, I closed my eyes, threw my arms over my eyes, and fell asleep quickly.

*W*R*

The bright sunlight beating down on my face through the window of the Rusty Massacre Bucket - as I'd dubbed my new van, but decided to nickname it Rusty - woke me, and I had no idea what time it was. Sighing, I sat up, and stretched, and winced as I realized how stiff sleeping on the floor of an automobile could make you. I glanced around, but all I saw was the same, grass green fur covering the walls, ceiling and floor of my new bedroom. Idly, I wondered if I could get curtains.

Then reality caught up to me. Standing up - I was shocked to realize just _how_ big Rusty was - I slipped on a pair of heels, and glanced down at myself. I needed to change, brush my teeth, comb my hair, the list went on.

I ended up changing in the bathroom of an iHop before eating breakfast there. I found an Internet café to activate the phone, and then called the carrier. I'd learned from my cousin Laynee that you could block your number permanently by requesting a complete line block, and I prayed she was right. A little while later, I added thanking her to my proverbial 'To-do' list.

I stopped at U-Stop and ran to the bathroom. Glancing around, I realized there were not camera - these people must be idiots - and stepping into the second stall. I frowned down at the toilet, before stepping up onto it. This would be tricky.

I had to balance on the toilet, in four inch stilettos, so that I could push one of the ceiling tiles up. After that had been accomplished, I fished the cell phone out of my purse - I really should have planned this better - and placed it _in_ the ceiling before sliding the tile back into place and stepping down. I had only just dropped my head below the top of the stall when I heard the door open, and breathed a sigh of relief I had not been caught. Flushing the toilet for show, I stepped out of the stall.

And froze.

**(Ok, two good cliffhangers - I'm evil, I **_**know**_**! - so, should I keep Steph out and about, just drifting, and see what trouble she can stir up, or should I get to the most action packed part quickly? And should Ranger and Morelli have a peaceful confrontation, or duke it out? And what about Rex? LOL! What do you want to see more of? What did you like and what did you hate? Gotta tell me so I can make this good!)**


	4. Chapter 4 Confrontation

**(If you can come up with a theme song for **_**this**_**, more power too ya! But this will get more interesting as it goes on, and I hope you all stick with it. Thanks!)**

Chapter 4 - Confrontation

**Ranger's POV**

_**"Where the hell is she?" **_**The worm shouted. I stilled.**

**"You think that **_**even if I knew **_**I would tell **_**you**_**? That's priceless. Really. After you hurt her like that. . . . I'm going to kill you." As I spoke, I stalked forward until we were no more than a foot apart. He was taller than me, probably by about two inches, but he was also leaner and completely uncontrolled. This would be easy. If I wanted it easy. Which I didn't.**

**By the end of my little speech, Tank was shifting nervously, but he knew better than to try to get involved. I could kick the asses of my entire core team when it was five to one; he certainly couldn't save the damn cop all alone. Morelli didn't see this, though.**

**He threw the first punch.**

**Oh, I caught it easily enough. As I'd already noticed, he was uncontrolled, and he gave away every move a lifetime before he made it. I gained the upper hand quickly, and pressed my advantage. Punching him as hard as I could in the face, aiming for the neck - I wanted him dead.**

**A sharp kick to his knee brought him down, and I could punch him in the kidneys.**

**Then shit went wrong.**

**Grabbing onto my hair like a girl in a catfight, he pulled me down.**

**And onto the knife he'd secretly pulled.**

*W*R*

Steph's POV

I gritted my teeth and contemplated banging my head on the steering wheel, but figured that probably wouldn't go over well with local law enforcement when they asked my newest travel buddies why I was dead in the driver's seat with my brains splattered over the steering wheel. Inwardly, I shuttered as the one in the passenger seat continued to speak.

". . . oh! And I bet that bounty hunter with the nice package is lookin' for you! Don't know why you wouldn't just go to him. Bet he could keep you safe, and happy!" My grandmother, Edna Mazur, everybody! I eyed my steering wheel.

"Yeah, Stephanie. The bounty hunter with the nice package is lookin' for you. . . ." the woman sitting on the ground behind my chair taunted.

"Cram it, Jeanne Ellen!" I snapped.

"Don't know why you're so touchy," she laughed.

I glanced up at Rusty's roof, and I could practically hear my mother whining, _"Why me? Arabella Sabatelli's daughter doesn't run off with her grandmother and an assassin! Mary La Barca's daughter doesn't disappear from town without telling anyone!" _Then I snorted. What Jeanne Ellen did in her free time was her own business; I didn't need to know if she killed people for a living. Staring out at the fading sun, I thought over the past few days.

Eventually, Grandma and Jeanne Ellen had explained to me why they had shown up at the bathroom and scared the living bejeezus outta me. Apparently, Grandma had mentioned to someone that I had gone missing, and how she wished I had taken her along for the ride. Her relationship with my mother was in smooth seas at the moment after she had set fire to Jannalynn Vaccari's new store on Haywood, three buildings down from Rangeman, in an attempt to liven things up because Trenton apparently just wasn't interesting if I wasn't there to cause a daily incident. Lester had seen her getting the giant cigarette lighter ready to drop into a three gallon bucket of gasoline, but had been just a little slower than gravity, and wound up getting hazard pay for dragging Grandma out of the burning wreckage.

Overhearing two insurance agents discussing Grandma's bout of pyromania, Jeanne Ellen had showed up in my grandma's room in the middle of the night and asked her to tag along as she went in search of me. She said it was to make sure I was safe, but I had my suspicions the real reason she had gotten involved was for entertainment. Either that, or she wanted to see Ranger again, under more . . . pleasant terms. Whichever.

Pulling up at a consignment shop a few miles north east of Vineland, New Jersey, I met each of their gazes separately, before saying, "This is still my show, and I'll run it the way I want. Understood?" Grandma nodded. Jeanne Ellen snapped me a salute. I rolled my eyes, and continued, "We're going to sell the pillows, mattress, curtains - I was really joking when I said I wanted curtains, by the way -" I shot Jeanne Ellen an amused glance, and she held her hands up in a mock surrender, "and then we're going to finish the drive to Vineland _in silence_." This time, my stare was directed at an affronted Grandma Mazur. "When we get into town, we'll buy three bus passes, sell the van, and do our travelling by bus. Believe it or not, but I _do_ have a plan."

As Grandma's door cracked open, and I pushed mine open as well, I peeked at the rearview mirror - and saw something in Jeanne Ellen's eyes, as her gaze met mine - that I had only _really_ seen once before.

I sorta hoped my unfamiliarity with the subject meant I was wrong.


	5. Chapter 5 Sadness and Sorrow

**(A little shorter and a little different this time; this chapter's theme songs are Strong and Strike and Sadness and Sorrow, in that order. They're two pieces of background music from the most famous anime on , Naruto. But I remember staying up late at night to watch Naruto, and I always thought, "Damn, Sasuke, you're such a dick. It's too bad I love you!" Anyway, my favorite characters were always Neji and Shikamaru. If you watched Naruto, or read the manga, tell me who yours was! :D Oh, and yes. I am being Jeanne Ellen friendly. Deal with it.)**

Chapter 5 - Sadness and Sorrow

From Vineland, New Jersey, to Asheville, North Carolina, and then to Evergreen, Alabama, we rode the buses, staying the night in town only about once a week, when we needed to wash our clothes. Otherwise, we would take the afternoon off every other day to shower and stretch our legs as best we could while keeping our heads down. Suddenly, I was extremely grateful to Jeanne Ellen, who finally told me to simply call her Eli, for teaching me little things every day, like how to spot and lose a tail or follow someone else without being noticed, and how to pick locks. I was also grateful for her teaching me a few different types of martial arts on our afternoons off. I did well on most things, albeit starting a little reluctantly.

However, after leaving Alabama for Eudora, Kansas, I was faced with the fact that I would have to tell the others my plans.

In each state we stopped in, I had bought us a prepaid cell phone to hide away in a hotel room after having the line blocked and the phone set to automatically call the previous phone in the link, and Eli had smiled at my brilliance. By now, I thought that we were doing pretty well, and so I merely star six sevened the number, before calling a second phone I had bought in this town. If the caller ID showed, we were screwed, and would have absolutely _no_ way of contacting the people in New Jersey again until Eli and I had pulled off our plan. Thinking of it, I cast a glance at the feral woman sitting in the window sill, and remembered how much more person-like she seemed, now that I'd had a chance to meet her.

Glancing down at the second phone, which had started to ring, I felt a victorious grin stretch across my face. _"Blocked Number"_ was the only thing on the caller ID. Eli saw my smile, and ducked her head, but not before I saw her own, proud smirk.

Ending the call, I leaned back, and looked down at the phones that would be thrown away later this afternoon. I might be a little paranoid, but I didn't want to have a call originating phone being part of our line.

I closed my eyes, and dialed a phone number I knew by heart.

*W*R*

**Ranger's POV**

**I **_**hated**_** being on limited physical activity. I supposed it was better than bed rest and nothing else, but I was growing exceedingly uncomfortable, knowing Stephanie was out there, unprotected, probably had no idea what she was doing, and here I was, unable to do anything about it.**

**Oh, I wore down my men to bones, overloading them with **_**anything**_** that might lead us to her, but I was surprised to find that there wasn't many links besides the fact that Connie and Lula were aware she was leaving town, and Rex had somehow been dropped off in my apartment the afternoon she had disappeared.**

**I rolled my neck so that I could look over the back of the couch at the table against the wall where Rex's cage was set. I was shocked by how quickly I came to be comforted by the sounds of the rat's wheel being put to use. Probably it was because I imagined Stephanie in that deathtrap apartment of hers, being comforted by the same sound many a night.**

**Then I groaned and heaved myself up off the couch. Bobby had spread the word that I was not to be up and at 'em from noon to six, and as such, no matter how hard I protested, someone in the building would find a way to get me up to seven and had the lock switched and protected to the point that I was effectively locked in cage as much as Rex. Couldn't even kick the door down 'cause it was reinforced to the max. It was times like these I really regretted training my men to achieve their ends at any means necessary, especially when all they had to do was call Tank if he was on duty, and suddenly I was being carried over the shoulder of my second in command like Santa's bag o' fuckin' toys.**

**I was in the kitchen grabbing a bottle of water when I heard my phone begin to chirp. Frowning, I fished it out of my pocket, and let out an uneasy breath. **_**Fuck!**_

**Displayed in white block letters in place of a caller ID were the words, **_**"Blocked Number."**_

(Ok, so -can't _believe_ I'm asking- is Stephanie calling Ranger - or is he being called into the wind to save the world? And - yay! - Rex is still alive! Since it's past midnight as I finish writing this, the next chapter will be added later today - after I get my hair permed in big, wavy curls with neon green tips!)


	6. Chapter 6 Holding

**(Sorry; I meant to get these chapters out days ago, but a family emergency came up. For your patience, here's two brand spankin' new chapters! I felt that Taylor Swift's "Safe and Sound", while not exactly cheerful, and probably not meant for this sort of situation, best fit Ranger's POV, at least while he's on the phone. Once he hangs up, the music would fade away, and then when he begins his 'work,' I saw it as an opportune moment to incorporate Red's 'Feed the Machine.' Hope you enjoy ;D)**

Chapter 6 - Holding

My mouth went dry when I heard his voice. The dark tone and feral purr as he answered, "Yo." I felt my stomach clench, and tears began to pool in my eyes.

"Yo yourself, I managed, and despite his reputation for legendary self-control, I heard him heave a sigh, whether out of relief or disappointment, I didn't know. And that bothered me. "What's up, Batman," I added.

"Babe," he choked out. "Are you ok? Are you safe? Where are you?" He fired off his questions rapidly, as if needing to get them out of the way. I smiled.

"Yes, I'm safe and sound. And I can't tell you where I'm at; don't worry," I glanced at Eli. "We'll be home soon, I think." I made sure to make it sound as though my 'I think' meant 'I know,' but the fact was, I just wasn't sure. I really didn't want him to worry.

I could hear him breathing for a few minutes, before he finally whispered, "As long as you're safe, babe." I smiled, and hung up.

*W*R*

I closed my eyes, and breathed a sigh of relief, leaning back against the wall.

She had called. She was safe.

*W*R*

My footsteps sounded ominous in the dark, completely cement hallway two floors beneath the surface of the earth. The lighting was sickly and strange, and I almost jumped out of my skin when I heard another pair of footsteps. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Tank catching up.

"Beating the shit out of him won't bring her back," he warned.

"Maybe not; but it'll put me in a better mood."

We reached the door, finally, and I pushed it open with a satisfying creak.

Chained to the wall, looking beaten and bloody, was the missing Officer Morelli.

*W*R*

_Crack! _Another bone in his arm snapped like tree branches, and I smiled as he shrieked. This had passed a beating long ago; now, I don't think there was a word to describe what I was doing.

I was covered in his blood; my hands, arms, face, neck and chest drenched in it. I hear the door open, and then a heavy hand lands on my shoulder.

"That's enough, Ranger. It's won't do to kill a cop."

I breathe hard, and then turn a glare on Morelli. "If something happens to her out there, your mother will never find enough of you to burry." With that, I whirl around, and stalk past Tank.

My footsteps begin to echo the instant I'm in the dark tunnel.


	7. Chapter 7 Game Plan

**(No music for this one, and a twist! Thanks for reading!)**

Chapter 7 - Game Plan

I leaned back against the foot of the bed, and smiled at Eli and Grandma. "Now that we've contacted Trenton, I'll tell you guys my game plan.

Grandma dropped down onto the chair by the desk. Eli paused and glanced over her shoulder, before turning to look back out the window.

"I have some friends in Mexico; I'm sure you already know this, Eli, but you can get legit IDs there pretty easily. After that, my friend Jamie and her brother will meet us there, and Leo, the brother, can get us Visas on the Mexican IDs."

"And then," Eli asked dryly.

"Then we find a farm or some place of the sorts to work until we can . . . do what we need to." I murmured. Grandma clapped.

"Oh goody! I've always wanted to do something fun like this."

As she danced around and got ready for, "Those hooligans who probably got great packages," Eli and met each other's gazes.

We knew there would be no chance to enjoy anything of the sort for a long time.

*W*R*

_I glared down at the empty plates and chairs on the side of the table, before glancing up at my husband. He had a speculative look on his face."It's a lot quieter," he finally mentioned, before ducking his head and beginning to eat. My oldest daughter shrugged, and followed suit._

_As I was putting away the dishes, I heard the doorbell ring. "One minute!" I called, but it was pointless. Frank was already up and opening the door. I heard a loud thwack as the TV remote hit the floor, and my stomach churned. I peeked around the corner, and felt faint._

_"Good to see you, Max." Frank started hesitantly. "How can we help you." _

_I shook my head emphatically, thinking, _No! Go away! Don't tell me this is why she was gone!

_Max frowned at the ground for a long minute, before meeting Frank's gaze. "They're calling her back." He whispered._


	8. Chapter 8 Revelations

**A/N: Sorry, people. I'm not sure how consistent my chapters will be; remember that "family emergency?" Well, we found out my father has lung cancer. Thanks for your patience. Also, someone asked a question about why Grandma Mazur would be happy to be a farmer, or something along the lines. That's not why she's happy. It's the adventure, the thrill of running away from Ellen Plum. And it's the hot Mexican men with the great packages like Ranger's - even though he's Cuban! ;-D Also, the magazine and news paper mentioned in this chapter are totally fictitious, but there might actually be a Denver Times news paper or Genesis Magazine. I didn't research it, so . . . yeah. I'm just using the names! )**

Chapter 8 - Revelations

_Frank and I led Max to the kitchen table. I glanced at my husband; his eyes were on fire. Almost as soon as we'd sat down, Frank started in._

_"I thought the contract finished over seven years ago!"_

_Max slowly nodded for a moment, before replying. "Actually, that's what everyone else thought, too. But the contract specified that forty missions be completed before the agent, under the alias Genesis, is released from duty." He paused. "Three missions Stephanie went on, during her little sprint as Wonder Woman, were not 'completed.' At least, that's what the powers-that-be say, and even though there are plenty of agents - especially one in particular - that could perform these . . . jobs," he paused to glance at me, and once again I realized just how little I really knew about what my youngest daughter did to save her father's life. I knew she did things the military and government would probably never let out, but being reminded of it, now, while she was gone and possibly hurt . . . I stared at the table, and remember all of our spits. "However," Max began again, "they believe she should return to complete these jobs herself. I came as soon as I heard. I wanted you to be prepared; or, at least to be able to say good-bye."_

_Good-bye. I knew what he meant by that. Her father had died doing the types of jobs she did, that Frank and that Ranger-boy she called a friend still did. Max was telling us she probably wouldn't make it home from all three of these stunts she'd have to pull. Remembering her coming home one night when her apartment was still charred, covered in garbage and bruises, she and Frank had joked about foul smelling primitive sewers in third world countries in some Middle Eastern language I didn't understand. At least, that's what they _told_ me they'd been talking about. . . . _

_And her father . . . Arrigo Salvatore was a great man who fell in love with the wrong woman. He'd been in the army with Frank; they could have passed for brothers. Actually, Frank had a better relationship with Rigo than he had with his real brothers. Luanna, the love of Rigo's life, was born and bred white trash and she lived in a real bad neighborhood, I remembered. They had Stephanie shortly after they got married in a quiet little ceremony where Frank and I were the only witnesses. By then, Frank had retired, and we had already had Valerie. I was perfectly happy with my quiet life in the 'Burg, and even Frank seemed to be settling down, but Rigo craved adventure. He stayed in the Army all through the pregnancy, and into Stephanie's toddler years. I remember her birth. By then, Luanna was acting . . . different._

_It wouldn't come to light for eleven, long years, but Luanna had fallen into the dangerous life of a drug addict and prostitute, and regularly she brought home her 'pimp' who went by the name, "Long Heat." I've never wanted to know what the name meant._

_It seemed strange to me, the name she gave Stephanie at birth. Denver Genesis Salvatore. Looking back, I can remember the Genesis Magazine on the table, and the Denver Times newspaper barely tucked into my purse. Looking back, I can remember a lot of things._

_I can remember exactly how news reached us that Rigo had been killed in action. I had been feeding Valerie cheerios and folding the laundry, and Frank was home early, distracting Valerie from the cereal. The call came late in the afternoon, and Frank actually let a tear slip when he heard the news. Stephanie, who had been called Genesis by all her friends, which happened to be only a scrawny, dark skinned boy named Pierre Donovan Firmin and his little sister Nicole, sat stoic through the ceremony, and when Rigo's flag was given out, she was probably the only person in the audience who didn't show she was at least a little surprised to be receiving it._

_She didn't let that flag go._

_She was so tiny, that first night when we stayed in Colorado she used the flag as a blanket._

_And the next morning, we found out about Luanna's problem, and that Rigo had left "Denver Genesis" in our custody, should anything happen to him._

_For months, she refused to respond to her own name. Until Max showed up at our door and talked to her. We never learned what they discussed. But she accepted his offer to have her name changed, and after that, she grew up like any normal girl._

_My mind was brought from the past - _her_ past - by Frank quietly asking, "That agent, that 'one in particular.' It's her friend Ranger, isn't it?"_

_Max's only reply was a short, "I can't answer that." But it was unnecessary._

_His hesitation gave it away._

**(A/N: Too dark? I've been known to give depressing or twisted histories to characters. . . . It just always makes people stronger. Anyway, what do you think? From the context, you should understand who "they" are, and where they're calling her away to. Also, did you catch the relation in Steph's past? **_**She**_** knew she grew up with Tank, but did Tank?)**


	9. Chapter 9 Past N Present

**(A/N: I've just come up with an idea that I will begin after this plot is finished, based on the biggest adventure Tank and Steph get into when they're kids! At the end of Wind Runner, keep your eyes peeled for ****The Explosive Adventures of Donny and Genesis****. No, I couldn't come up with a better name! ;D As that's going, you can also read about Stephanie's stint doing the work Ranger later took over in ****Codename: Genesis****. I considered using Codename: Ginny, since that's what Donny calls her, but it seemed too much casual, not enough kick-ass. I'm not sure, though, how well I'll stick to my plot-tracks - this projects gone everyway but straight! I also feel the need to mention that the idea for how Stephanie got involved in 'the game' came from fairytaleprincess03's story "Masquerade." It's a great read. Anyways, Happy Reading!)**

Chapter 9 - Spotting

Getting from Eudora to Southern California was easy, and from there to the Arizona border just as much so. But once we were across the border, I think Eli's and my tense behavior was the only thing that kept Grandma from raising hell. Everything went fine, of course. Eli and I were currently walking down the side by side, growing increasingly uncomfortable, though. "Listen," Eli said suddenly, and at first, I though she meant someone was following us. But then she continued talking. "I know who you are - were, I guess. I mean, I know that most of your life in Trenton was probably an act, right? You're not _really_ scared of your gun, and I know you didn't need Ranger's help when you started working as a bounty hunter."

I nodded slowly, before exhaling. "How _much_ do you know? Are ya gonna make me go back?"

"Go back? _Fuck no_. That's suicide with your cop running around; well, maybe for a normal person. You don't need me with you to take care of him - you don't even need to be on the same continent. As for _how much_ I know, well, why don't you tell me everything, and then I'll be able to give you a percent." She gave me a cheeky grin, before glancing over her shoulder. We were almost to the small apartment we'd managed to rent toward the outskirts of town, but there were always members of a gang hanging around this area. "Anyway, I know you're Genesis; that should be enough, right? But I also know they're lookin' for you." I nodded again, a small, curt movement. She was silent for a moment, watching three teenage guys swaggering down the sidewalk with a critical eye. After a few minutes, she turned her attention back to me.

"Can I ask you a question, though?" Without waiting for a response, she jumped right in. "Why did you leave? I mean, you were _the_ best, better even than Ranger is now. Rumor is that band of agents you use to work with is still in the game, and lately they've been trying to recruit new members. Even _I_ got the notice! Everyone's super hesitant about the job, though, because the standards are pretty high. But what made you want to stop doing the superhero thing?"

By then, we were at the door, and I paused to take a breather. Leaning back against a wooden railing, I glanced up at the sky. Bright sun, as always, and a few puffy clouds spattered the blue. Nothing out of the ordinary, except this conversation. Meeting her gaze again, I asked, "Are you aware of the reason I even _started_ the 'Superhero thing'?" She shook her head. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and when I opened them again to look her in the eye, I began.

"It was my senior year in high school, a couple weeks shy of Graduation, and a few months after my eighteenth birthday. My parents had been distracted recently, and I didn't know if they even remembered that it was Senior Skip Day, but Mary Lou and I had plans to get our nails done and then go shopping. Midway through Aldo's, a shoe store, Mary Lou had an . . . accident, however. Slipping on an unmarked puddle, she slid on the slick tiled floor, and landed in a heap on her current boyfriend and future husband, Lenny Stankovic. Laughingly, she asked him if he wanted to go see a movie later, and we went our separate ways shortly after, them to the movies, and me to the nearest restroom to barf because the sight of all that mushy gushy shit was making me sick. I _had_ considered slapping them more than once during the ten minutes I was in their mutual company.

"Deciding to simply head home and put away my new dress, I was super-glad I had been the one to drive. But when I got home, I heard shouting. Now if I had ignored that like any other 'Burg girl would have, I probably would have gone to college and made something of my life that was completely different from what it is now. Knowing family influences, I'd probably own something akin to the Betty Crocker kitchen sets, or possibly a sex toy empire. . . .

"I also would have lost two fathers.

"See, when I listened to the conversation, I realized it was regarding Daddy's time in the Army. He'd been a Ranger like . . . Ranger. Valerie was in college, but continued to stay at home while she studied, and was currently in our shared bedroom, listening to music and blatantly ignoring the argument downstairs. I shoved the dress into my side of the closet and ran downstairs to listen in.

"They were saying he needed to go back, because a contract was incomplete. But that would kill him. I mean, how often do you see men in their forties or fifties running around with an M16 in the game? Not very often.

"My mother seemed to be a statue, unable to comprehend anything that was happening, and when I actually looked at her, I realized she probably couldn't, considering she had a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels hanging from her fingers.

"I had my ear pressed to the wall, peeking through the crack in the door, when Valerie snuck up behind me. "What the hell do you think you're doing," she stage whispered, causing me to jump.

"When I jumped, though, I also bumped into the door, causing it to swing open, and Valerie and I were caught in the compromising position of _both_ looking like we had been listening in on what was _obviously_ a private conversation.

"Long story short, and minus a lot of yelling, eventually, we came to the bargain that I would sort of sub in for my father for the duration of his contract. By the time it was over, however, I kind of enjoyed the work, and when asked, I signed another contract.

"Of course, I hadn't wanted the agreement, or the government work, to be on any actual files linked with _me_, and so, to get around that, I simply used the childhood nickname no one remembered except Donny. Genesis.

"To be honest, I kinda expected him to know who I was, when I found out he was in the game, too," I finished softly.

"Wait," Eli breathed, "Who's Donny?"

I gave her an amused smile. "I thought you knew everything important. Donny is Tank. We grew up together, and even had a hand in a federal arrest when we were kids. But I was adopted when I was twelve, and after that, we didn't meet again until he knew me as the incompetent little girl from the 'Burg who wanted to be a bounty hunter, and I met him as Ranger's right hand man. Somehow, I don't think Ranger would take it all that well that I've been keeping this a secret," I added.

She threw her head back and laughed, "Not doubt. But you didn't answer the question; why did you decide to drop out?"

*W*R*

**I frowned down at the little woman glaring up at me. I don't know how exactly the men in my family got to be so big while the woman were smaller than most anyone else in the world, but it sure gave Lester a laugh whenever he watched Nikki order me around. Ginny thought it was funny too. . . . I thought, and then felt my back straighten.**

_**Where the hell had that come from?**_** I hadn't thought about Denver Genesis in **_**years**_**! She was a figment of my past, and never had really played a huge role in my present. I shook my head. Probably it was just seeing Nikki again, I thought, since we'd only seen each other three or four times since I'd enlisted in the army. Nikki had gotten a job as a ballet dancer, and she seemed even smaller than most of the other woman in our family. She had been laid off about a month ago, though, and it had taken some doing, but I had finally gotten Ranger to give her a job as Ella's assistant.**

**I was now at her apartment in Colorado, helping her pack her things so she could move into an apartment on 4. Something about think about Ginny brought to mind that if Nikki ever met Steph, they'd be fast friend.**

**And then hell would break loose.**

**I love my sister, I do. But she's **_**Trouble**_**! And the better half of every man at Rangeman was in love with Bomber. We just couldn't stay mad at her for longer than a minute. If they became as good girlfriends as Stephanie was with Lula . . . shit. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea?**

**I can already see Ranger picking pieces of my ass out of his boot. . . .**

I've got a question for all you readers. . . . Q: Is this story going to be Babe, Tart . . . or BabeTart? IT ALL DEPENDS ON YOUR ANSWERS!


	10. Chapter 10 Alive and Well

**(I somehow found my way onto a relationships advice column, and since I'll read just about anything, I started to read. And it said there was a top four reasons to dump a man. Each reason has subcategories, like number one which is "He isn't supportive" but also includes things like simply not helping out with housework. Personally, unless we specifically agreed he'd do something, like wash the cars, and he completely ignores that chore and leaves it for me to do, I don't think I'd really expect him to help out with every little thing (Hi, Mom!). Also, I find people that **_**do**_** expect your help with everything, or want to help you with everything, or just want you to know their entire schedule, as extremely suffocating. Then again, I'm thirteen and I'm not allowed to leave the house unless my mother's within a twenty foot radius, so what do I know? Number four was also particularly interesting. "He doesn't get along with your friends and/or family." From what I gather in the books (and we should have all known this would eventually lead to my analysis of Steph's "relationship" with JoMo) Joe needs a lot of **_**convincing**_** to attend family dinners at the Plums' residence, and even though Steph considers Ranger a good friend, he can't stand him. Then again, I guess if I was older and found Jackson, say, kissing Sarah or something, I'd be pretty pissed and rude to Sarah, too, even if we're practically sisters. But that's also kind of different, because. . . . ya know what, just enjoy the chapter! (This is why I'm never the leader of a team at school, I take too long looking at stupid shit to get anything done. . . .)**

Chapter 10 - Alive & Well

I dropped my gaze to the ground, and felt my lips press together. "Have you ev-" I never got to finish my sentence. At that moment, Grandma stepped out of the apartment just as one of the gangbangers lifted his gun and fired.

The next few seconds were a blur. I remember spinning around and pulling my glock out of the waistband of my jeans. The burning need to assure myself that while the Incident and seven years of calm had allowed me freedom of movement, they hadn't taken my skill levels. The sounds of bullets firing probably only lasted about a minute or two; almost every automatic gun unloads their entire magazine in exactly two seconds, but reloading the guns took a little bit longer, and they had plenty of extra, it seemed. First I heard one eerie thud, then another. Almost a second later, there was the burn of a bullet grazing my upper left arm, and then against my right hip. One at a time, the teenage boys either dropped as my bullets struck them in the thigh or shoulder or various other non-lethal areas, or dropped their guns and scattered like roaches once you turned the lights on.

When the last kid had disappeared from view, I glanced over my shoulder. And felt myself go on lockdown.

*W*R*

Ranger's POV

I leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes and scrubbing my hands over my face. I had forgotten just how much we had learned to rely on Stephanie when she worked here. Distraction jobs made apprehending skips so much easier, and the money it had cost us to repay all the bar and club owners for property damage might as well have paid for her next three blown up cars. If the cars were all Bugatti Veyron Super Sports. I smiled at the idea; there was no way Stephanie would ever allow me to get her one of them. They might the fastest street legal cars on the market, and she might be able to practically achieve orgasm just sitting in my Porsche, but priced at over $2,000,000, my babe wouldn't want to breathe near one for fear of it exploding.

Then, picturing her in a sports car lead to picturing her in a sports car naked aaaaand I need to get laid. I snorted and stood. What I needed was to get the hell out of this building before I started to throw things.

I moved quickly getting out of Rangeman. I knew that the minute I was out of sight of the cameras, when I would disable the trackers, Hal, who was on monitor duty, would report my disappearing location. Everyone else would be curious, but no one would say anything. When one of my employees went missing, it was trouble. When I went missing, it meant, "I got shit to do; stay the fuck out of it."

I had just pulled into the parking lot of the bonds' office when my cell phone rang. I frowned when I saw the number; it was an old friend of mine from Mexico.

"_Hola_." I greeted.

"_Sí__, Ranger__, hola a ti también. Oye, todos, desde Rangeman Boston a tus contactos la calle he oído estado buscando para algo. En realidad, alguien, ¿verdad? Y una persona bastante en eso_."* Not only had Alejo and I grown up together, but when he moved to Mexico, we stayed well in contact, and I knew I could depend on him, and his net of employees in a less tan legal business, to watch out for skips that thought Mexico was a safe haven. Not from me. I chuckled at the thought, before answering.

"_Amigo, no me jodas. Si la has visto, yo quiero estar allí para ella lo más pronto posible_."**

"_Cierto, cierto. Hubo un tiroteo en Hermosillo alrededor de dos horas. Tres mujeres que viven en un apartamento juntos fueron disparados por un pocos pandilleros. Uno de ellos disparó hacia ellos y consiguió la mayoría de los punks de dispersión, pero mientras ellos seguían haciendo lo suyo, los otros dos cayeron, y hasta la perra dura-culo picó con uno. Están en un hospital cerca del centro de la ciudad, pero ustedes saben la atención médica aquí. La anciana y la rubia de la que no podría hacerlo_."*** I'm not exactly sure what I thought when I heard this. I don't know what I wanted to think. All I knew was: I was on a flight to Mexico two hours later.

_*"Yeah, Ranger, hello to you as well. Listen, everyone from Rangeman Boston to your street contacts have heard you been lookin for somethin. Actually, someone, right? And a pretty someone at that."_

_**"Dude, don't fuck with me. If you've seen her, I want to be down there for her as soon as possible."_

***_Right, right. There was a shootout in Hermosillo about two hours ago. Three woman who live in an apartment together were shot at by a few gangbangers. One of 'em shot back at them and got most of the punks to scatter, but while they were still doin their thing, the other two went down, and even the tough-ass bitch got stung with one. They're in a hospital near the center of town, but you know medical care here. The old lady and the blond might not make it._

**Translations via Google Translate. I also ran them through a Microsoft Word grammar and spelling Spanish (Mexico) check, but errors might still be in there since I can't speak Spanish. Maybe French, soon, but that's not Spanish.**


	11. Chapter 11 Waking Up

**(Sophiepicklegirl, who commented on chapter nine, has a pretty good idea. See, I did get off track on Steph's adventures, but the gang shootout and this chapter were in the plans. I'm just sad you didn't get to meet my three buddies I'd planned. Alejo wasn't a part of the story until the last chapter! XD Anyway, I'll be wrapping up Wind Runner soon, (but not this chapter) but there will be a sequel (especially since I already have the ending entirely planned out, and it would be far too cruel to completely stop on a cliff hanger of that enormity!) Hope you've enjoyed our little game of cat and mouse, and don't kill me for the ending!)**

Chapter 11 - Waking Up

My first call once I was in Rangeman's private jet was to Tank, of course. As my second command, and because of the big brother/little sister relationship I'd noticed between my best friend and Stephanie, it was obvious he'd need to come down as well. I sighed, and then felt a tiny flinch work the muscles under my eyes. Sighing, uncontrollable anger, next thing you know I'll be eating Tasty Cakes.

The second call I made, though, was to Frank Plum. He needed to know I'd found his daughter and mother-in-law, even considering his relationship with the latter.

And then the rest of the ride was a blur. . . .

*W*R*

The hospital wasn't the greatest, but when I stepped through the doors, Alejo rushed over to me.

"_How is she? Are they all ok?_" I asked as quickly as I could spit the words out.

He frowned and gestured to the nurse who'd just entered the waiting room. She skipped a step when her eyes met mine, but after clearing her throat, she asked me if I was with Alejo. After my confirmation, she led us back to someone's room. "_The two that are in critical condition are up on the third floor. However, the one who is . . ." _she trailed off for a moment, and Alejo cut in.

_"Uncooperative?"_

_"Yes, that's an . . . apt . . . description. She's in here. Don't be put out, though, if she doesn't react to you. She hit her head quite hard in the fall. . . . She doesn't remember much."_

I never knew what people meant by the phrase _a broken heart_. I thought the pain in my chest originated from my sudden inability to breathe, but even that was unexplainable. I didn't realize that it would be physically painful to push the hollow metal door open, how something that probably only really weighed a pound, maybe less, could suddenly be so heavy as to take all my strength to push open. And when I stepped through the threshold and into the hospital room, I didn't smell the antiseptics, or feel the chill in the air. All I felt was my heart being yanked out of my chest and shredded into two as I met her stormy blue eyes, and saw nothing.

Not an iota of recognition.


	12. Chapter 12 The End Not!

**(This is short, but it gets to the point, and it is the last chapter in Wind Runner. I'll be working on The Epic Adventures of Donny and Genesis (I changed the name) for a while, and I'll alternate that with a different story called Secret Teller(I'm iffy on Codename: Genesis for now) ST's Summary: Word on the street is the California Chico Killer has been moving east quickly, and now is rumored to be in Jersey. With the FBI drawn into the game, **_**all**_** of Steph's relationships strained to max, and her newest FTA suspected of aiding Chico, can Bomber make it through this one alive? Hope you decide to read it; I'll post part of the first chapter in bold at the end of this chapter. ST takes place directly after Explosive Eighteen. Also, have you heard that the Nineteenth book (Notorious Nineteen) is already available for preorder on nooks and kindles? I've already preordered mine!)**

Chapter 12 - The End (Not!)

It had been a full day, but she didn't know who I was. She sighed suddenly, and I glanced over at her. "If you're just going to sit there in the corner and stare at me, you might as well do something useful, _Ranger_." She said disapprovingly. I smiled and arched a brow. "Tell me how we met."

I frowned then. "Shouldn't you get these memories back yourself?" I asked as quietly as possible, hoping maybe she wouldn't hear and would drop the subject. But she did hear. Just fine, actually.

"Do you think I _can_ get the memories back by myself if I'm in _Mexico_? And whose _bright_-_fuckin'_-idea was it to come here?" I felt a smile tug at my lips.

"From what I've gathered, you'd been between jobs for about six months. One of your parents or your grandmother - I don't know who - told you there was a position as a filing clerk at your cousin Vinnie's bonds' office. But when you got there, Connie - she's the woman who bonds people out of jail, and gives bounty hunters their FTA files - she told you the filing position had already been filled. I guess you blackmailed Vinnie into giving you a job as a skip tracer, and took on Morelli, a cop who was charged with murder. We met when Connie called in a favor and asked me to train you. See, she'd taken a bullet to the shoulder that would have caught me in the chest when a takedown went bad in Vegas, and that was the cause of my . . . legal troubles with the state of Nevada. I almost said no. If I hadn't told her I'd train you, if I'd never met you . . . well. My life would be a lot less interesting," I finished in a mutter.

She was quiet for a long while. Then she stood. I jumped out of my seat as well, and was just about to push her back onto the bed when she waved me away. "Sit back down. Someone's coming."

I could barely stop my jaw from dropping when I realized she was right. I hadn't realized there was someone coming down the hall when I didn't even have a glock on me. Shit I must me loosin it.

She opened the door, and ran right into Tank; behind him was his little sister, Nikki. Steph's eyes opened wide.

"Donny?"

Without a moment's hesitation, she jumped up into my best friends arms. And planted her lips right on his.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**The instant I got out of my car, I squealed and yanked my jacket up and over my head. There should be some universal law against it raining like this. I was nearly soaked by the time I got to the door of the newly finished office. Lula was sitting on the brown leather couch, looking as dignified as a drowned rat could.**

**I glanced around the office. This was my first time having been inside since they finished it, and I had to admit, I liked what they'd done - whoever **_**they**_** were. The place was cozy, but sort of professional, and not nearly as dilapidated as the first office had been. Of course, I wouldn't expect anything but the best from anyone who was working under Ranger's orders.**

**The walls were an odd shade of orange-ish pink-ish brown that looked so pretty with the dark chocolate brown of the leather seats and the wood of Connie's desk. And the floor was made of "artificial white crystal stone," or so says Hal. Whenever he starts talking about this stuff, I sort of zone out. Sue me.**

**The only real wall decorations were the lights: super bright wall thingies that looked like a cone with the tip cut off, held to a long trapezoid of bronze metal that was held to the wall somehow. A single gold chandelier hung from the wall in the very center of the room, decorated with tiny, dangling golden balls and crystals shaped like flowers that were somehow brightly lit up. Six electric candle were held at the very top, and they provided most of the light.**

**Suddenly a loud plop reminded me that my hair was, in fact, as wet as it was this morning when I took a shower, and I was creating a puddle just standing her.**

**I smiled and shook my head, gaining a shout of displeasure from Connie and Lula groaning, "White girl, I'm tryina dry **_**off**_**!"**

**I laughed and turned to Connie. "Whatcha got for me?"**

**"Mooner and Dougie, and two new ones, Jane Pasternak and Ramon Grover. Oh, and here's a towel." From somewhere in her desk, she produced a fluffy white towel, which I accepted with a wry smile.**

**"That Pasternak girl sounds familiar. Who's she?"**

**"Well, I'd hope she would. Was in the same class as you, I think. Light blond hair and green eyes? Father was some big important business guy and her mother passed away early so she was independent, supposed to even sign all her own administrative paperwork and stuff, but she was more likely to climb out the window and sit on the roof than she was to attend class. They got her on shoplifting. Guess Daddy's allowance wasn't big enough for Princess."**

**I frowned at Connie even while I was bent over drying out my hair. "You shouldn't knock her like that. Besides Mary Lou, she was one of my closest friends. And I'm not just saying you should respect her because of that." I heard the door open, and for a moment, the sound of raindrops was clearer, just before the door closed quietly. At the same time, I felt a tingle at the back of my neck, informing me of who'd just entered the office. "Hey Ranger," I greeted before standing and meeting Connie's gaze. "And Daddy was a rich business man. Daddy died when Janey was 13 of cancer. Mommy was alive though." I turned, and had just brushed by Ranger, my hand was placed on the door, when I glanced back over my shoulder, and met Connie's scolded gaze. "Of course, Mommy was a two bit crack whore, but, ya know, can't choose your family."**

* * *

_So what do you think? Is Jane Pasternak helping out the killer? Who's this new Ramon Grover guy? And why would she brush off Ranger like that? Where does the "_secret_" from the title come in - or better yet, what _is_ the secret? And the most _pressing question_: Are _you_ going to read Secret Teller?_


End file.
